


his moral greyness

by sleep_pronoia (nap_princess)



Category: Original Work
Genre: An ending ...?, Angst, Gen, Modern AU, Univeristy AU, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26604160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nap_princess/pseuds/sleep_pronoia
Summary: It wasn't the taste that Julian hated, it was the guilt— Julian, Lyon and a cruel childhood





	his moral greyness

**his moral greyness**

* * *

Lonely on the new shit,  
Only bad people live to see their likeness set in stone,  
What does that make me?

— **Lorde** , _Still sane_

;;

He suddenly broke down and said, "I'm going to tell you something I've only ever told two people and something I've carried around with me." — something that had been a black hole since the day he found out. He put his head on my shoulder and told me Ronnie killed Frances.

— **Ronald "Ronnie" Kray** , on the murder of his wife

* * *

He lost a bet, and now he usually doesn't try to fall when he stands but these high heels are harder to walk in than they look. Julian genuinely believes he'll snap an ankle.

"I can't believe you gave that woman your money," Julian says to Ume. In the dark, he can't really see her face, but he bets it's all screwed up

"I can't believe you gave her your shoes." Came her response.

He grumbles and tries to not think of himself as a sore loser. He lost fair and square. He supposes those were the only free shoes the homeless woman could get. He's seen shoes littered around the town all the time from drunk nights; on the street, tied up and stung on low tree branches, outside lawns.

His train of thought isn't the smoothest now, he's had a few drinks. If he hadn't than he wouldn't have made a losing bet.

"It wasn't a lot of money," Ume says as they slowly made their way back home. "It was spare change and you never know when she'll need it for tampons and stuff,"

Julian nods, more concentrated on his walking than Ume's words and the kindness flowing out of them.

"It is annoying though, to be approached by rude homeless people. That lady was nice, just minding her business. It's not her fault she saw an opportunity and took it." Ume continues, and Julian hums in return. "Like there's this one guy who always approaches me and O—chan. Each time he'd ask us, 'Speak English?' and it gets on my nerves because we're obviously students here studying for a degree. Of course, we speak English. But, above all, we've got no money. Ask someone old, they'll likely have something to give, they have savings."

Julian hums again, now convinced that he'll snap both his ankles. Should he just walk home barefoot?

"Maybe the guy is just desperate?" He asks.

"Yeah, well," Ume frowns. "He's not kidding anyone with that dirt smeared on his face. It's deliberate, it's soil, I've seen him do it. Just like that one old lady who steals flowers from people's gardens and tries to sell them to tourists. She once cursed me out after I gave her a pound because she wanted a fiver. Anyway, 'speak English' guy spends his money on beer. He thinks if he makes himself look lesser than he'll luck out more. I feel more pity for that woman who carts around her shopping cart near _Tescos_. The one with the red circles painted on her face."

"Isn't she crazy?"

"That's why I feel bad for her. I only see her on certain days and I heard she's actually got people looking out for her but they let her roam the streets on some days. For fresh air or something."

Julian raises a brow.

"That's just what I've heard, I don't really know, I never asked." Ume replies, trying not to shiver with the night. "But what I do know is that the homeless guy who sits at the west entrance of town doesn't even own the dog that sits on his lap. I've seen him change shifts with another older gentleman. I know most people don't pay attention to the homeless but those guys don't even look the same! C'mon! That poor dog is being used as a crutch!"

"Why do you know so much about homeless people?"

"I volunteer."

"You're too nice. You care about people too much." Julian comments.

"I don't know about that. I mean, I have my reasons, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't look nice on my CV too. I mean …" Ume trails off. "I'm not nice, not really. I know homelessness is tough. More than tough, hard to describe in words really. It's not something you choose to become and there's going to be a ton of things these folks will be forced to do. Things they wouldn't want ever to but have to to get by. And here I am, ranting about them. All just because some of them are bad apples. I know a lot who are nice and taken advantage of or alienated. It's not very nice of me to say all these bad things about them just because they're a minor inconvenience to me."

Julian nods, more of a listener than a talker. There's a likely chance he won't see Ume again until the next society meeting. Even then, they don't talk much. They're only having this conversation because Julian's tired and Ume needed someone to walk her home.

Tonight's adventure will be quite a story to tell when the sun rises.

"I still think you're nice." Is all Julian can offer as he sweeps back his long hair out of his eyes.

"That's your opinion on me." Ume utters. "But thanks, I appreciate it."

* * *

Julian likes this place where no one knows his name and background (unless they stalk his socials, but he's privated those so he considers himself two steps forward). It's like how _Ned Vizzini_ described in his book _It's Kind of a Funny Story._ You don't want to overlap your life; there's a _here_ and there's a _there_. It feels like two separate worlds.

It's a good book about teenage angst, very on-brand to a fifteen year old boy's mind; down to the inaccurate sex ed and a passage that said: _"Noelle rolls her eyes. I think her breasts roll in sync with them. Girls' breasts are so amazing."_ The book's main character is all about a preteen who doesn't know shit about sex or girls but is desperate to get involved even if misinformed.

Julian's seen people slam the author for that one paragraph online. It's funny out of context, but Julian doesn't think he should mock the guy. The author, he means. He's dead. And Julian isn't just saying it's bad to speak ill of the dead because they're dead, sometimes if you don't want people spitting on your graves, there's a rule of thumb: don't be an ass while alive. But Julian means, the author died from suicide and the book was very inspirational on preventing suicide. It's just sad that Ned — the author — couldn't do what his book said. Then again, it's just ink on paper, even if it's his words. No one can fulfil all their ideologies and promises, even if it's to themselves.

Anyway, back to why Julian likes this new university student life so much. People actually applaud him for uprooting his life to start a new one here. He doesn't think he'll get the same reaction if he were to run away, go missing and begin something where nobody knows him.

He doesn't think he'll ever go back to his home town by choice. But he knows he has to at some point. The biggest fear is being asked to go home because someone's died. He's seen classmates go home suddenly due to a relative passing away. His peers are at that age where older relatives are right at death's doors.

Though Julian knows, if there's anyone with enough power to drag him to attend a funeral, it's his twin brother.

* * *

Julian doesn't even know why some people even refer to him and Lyon as 'the Valentine twins', it's more apparent that they're anything but that. They're Julian and Lyon, and nothing but brothers. Totally opposed to each other's existence.

They're twins but it's impossible to mistake one for the other. When they were kids, Julian did think he and Lyon were alike. The same dark eyes, the same nose, the same body build. But then they became nothing alike.

Lyon keeps his hair short, shaved into a buzz cut style. While Julian's hair touches his shoulders. It's like he and Lyon had a discussion of who could get all the hair and Julian just so happened to win.

But Julian gets it though, he gets how people can think they're the same person. When they were little, they were the best of friends, joined by the hip.

But now … not so much. Now they're strangers, and Julian isn't sure if he should be grateful about this fact or not.

* * *

To Julian, they were _the Weasley twins_ ; all pranks and jokes, mischief and fun-time, troublemakers that were never too serious.

But to Lyon ... they were _the Kray twins_ , all work and no play.

Any neighbour who dared whisper about his brother thought Lyon as weird, too aggressive for someone his age. Julian blames the high fever Lyon fell under when they were twelve. It made Lyon's head all screwy, made his twin look like something else. Lyon's hair turned a shade different. A light colour, almost white, maybe even silver at best. Kissed by the moon or maybe like that _Disney_ film, like _Princess Anna_ if her heart was frozen completely.

Julian thinks the illness is what made Lyon so vicious and cruel. Sickness tends to do that to people, they're in so much pain that they have to hurt others just so others would feel it too.

They were just kids when Julian realised his brother wasn't the same person who grew in the womb with him. Just kids. But horrible kids. Mean kids. _Cruel_ , even.

And Julian was not proud to call himself a bully, but Lyon was. Lyon was _proud._ He'd stand in a circle with his _cheering_ _friends_ (they were more of Lyon's friends; but since Lyon is Julian's other half, he guesses that makes the group his friends too) and watch Lyon beat the life out of some punk kid.

Julian remembers winching each time Lyon landed a punch, holding a different youth beneath him still with his weight as each week passed. It was the same thing each time, a constant repetition, but Julian never did anything about it. Didn't know what to do. He could only block out the sounds and hazily stares at the scene before him.

It was like watching a train wreck, he couldn't look away. He couldn't move. He was such a coward. And he let Lyon smear his name in the mud.

* * *

"Hey!"

"Hi? Oh, hi!" Julian smiles as he adjusts the backpack straps. His backpack is heavy, loaded with milk and bread and an assortment of other groceries and snacks that he did not need and a crumpled up _Tesco_ receipt that proved he didn't steal. "Sorry, I was, ah, distracted. I don't pay attention when I'm listening to music,"

"Yeah, I could tell." Ume says, pointing at the earbud Julian's now pulling out. "Just wanted to say something. I thought I ran into you earlier. I was totally surprised, I thought you had shaved off all your hair!"

"W — _What_?"

"Yeah, imagine my surprise! I started talking to the guy about the society's meeting and everything, turns out it was your brother? You didn't tell me you had a twin!"

"I," Julian swallows."It must have slipped my mind."

Ume nods. "It's no sweat, I don't talk about my sister that much either. But O-chan said she knew from the very beginning that it wasn't you. She noticed the way your brother walked. Ah, 'Lyon', was it?"

Julian nods, too tongue-tied to speak.

"Yeah, he's something else. Have you ever noticed the way Lyon walks?" Ume asks, earning a shake of the head from Julian. "He dominates the sidewalk! He took up so much space, I don't know how I missed it, but … yeah, I guess I did." Ume shrugs.

Once again, Julian nods as his mind races.

 _What the fuck?_ What. the. fuck was his twin brother doing all the way here? There's no reason to visit? What kind of trouble did that bastard get himself into?

"Anyway, I got to go." Ume gestures to her own shopping bags. They look like they're weighing her down. "Tell me about your week when I see you Friday, alright?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," Julian answers and Ume gives him a grin before she disappears around the corner, her jet black hair fanning behind her.

His heart palpitations go hard as he looks around the street. If Ume saw Lyon moments ago, then his brother might still be close. Should he book it home now? Leave without a trace and any chance for Lyon to contact him?

"Julian!" A familiar voice shouts and Julian turns his head.

At that notice, he looks over to Lyon who's walking up to him. Julian notices the swagger in Lyon's walk, taking big steps, shoulders big and squared, arms swinging, leaving no room for others to walk anywhere near him.

A frown tugs on his lips and he feels hatred gathering in his chest. He can only feel animosity for Lyon. What a prick. What a joke.

.

.

.

Julian hears her brother laugh and wonders, _Do I laugh that obnoxiously too? Why do people even talk to me?_

And for one moment was filled with an urge to snub out his brother's happiness. Not just to annoy, but just to shut him up. He doesn't know why, some say it's the Cain instinct.

But he only says, "Hey, keep it down."

"Don't spoil my fun. I'll return your phone in a bit, not my fault mine's dead."

Julian watches smoke rise out of Lyon's mouth before a smile curls on his lips. It's not a happy kind of grin and Julian thinks he almost puked.

.

.

.

Julian texts the group chat and hopes his housemates don't hate him. He's a second year now, and he's done living on campus; done being woken up by inconsiderate drunks, done hearing couples have sex through the thin walls, done with people using his non-stick pan then scrubbing it with those metal sponge things.

He texts and agonises and almost wishes he could sink through the floor. His anxiety gets the better of him. Jamal answers first, perfectly fine with Lyon being a surprise visitor, crashing on their couch for a few nights.

Julian has always thought that Jamal was too nice to be his friend. His dad's a pastor and Jamal always had a wild story to tell after returning from church. Sometimes Julian feels like asking Jamal if he could join him for just one Sunday, but it'd be awkward, wouldn't it? To be surrounded by a group of religious people? Julian would surely sweat like the sinner that he is.

If Jamal was here right now, then it'd be like a scene from those shows Jamal is always summarising during dinner. On cue Jamal would smile at Julian — his teeth brighter than anyone else's, his dark eyes knowing at the flickering doubt in Julian's brain, his words reassuring.

But Jamal's not here. No. Lyon is. And now they have to ride the bus together with twenty minutes put between them. It will be hell.

* * *

Julian brings Lyon to his house.

Lyon makes no moves to help Julian unload his groceries. Instead, he watches the people in the house. Lyon sees a pink-haired girl getting destroyed in a video game. She's squished in between two other people hollering; one brunette girl with freckles and a young black man with a friendly face.

"You guys suck!" The girl with pink hair cries when she loses.

"And you swallow!" The brunette says at the same time Jamal says, "Get wrecked!"

Needless to say, the two high fived each other and their mediocre comebacks. Julian now knows where Maarja gets her sass, she gets influenced by Lucy too easily. He thinks her friends are a weird bunch.

(But he likes them better than Lyon's friends)

Since the game's ended and they clearly have a guest, Maarja stands to greet Lyon and introduce herself. Julian knows his brother's attention is probably pulled in two directions; Maarja's odd taste in fashion and the couch.

The couch looks like the type that was picked up by the side of the road before being declared a national treasure. There's a stain by the armchair that Julian doesn't want to know the origin of. Actually, he doesn't think anyone even knows where it's from. Not even the people who let them rent the house.

As for Maarja's clothes; she's wearing a shirt that doesn't match the colour of her faded dyed hair. It kind of hurt Julian's eyes, to be perfectly honest, but he's gotten used to it. Lucy had once said Maarja's style is the kind where she proudly declares, _"It's so ugly, I have to have it!"_

Again, knowing his brother, Julian expects his brother to ignore Maarja because she isn't his type. Jamal introduces himself too, and Lucy uses this time to escape up the stairs to use the bathroom.

But Lyon zeroes in on Lucy, he's interested in her. Everyone can tell.

.

.

.

Julian makes tea for Lyon, the others prepare their own snacks — tangerines and biscuits and popcorn from a bag.

Julian tries to pull Lyon in, roping him into conversations, attempting to make Lyon not seem like a douche. But it fails when Lyon comments on Lucy's appearance. The girl whips around, sending her pretty dark hair tumbling over her shoulders as she stares Lyon down with her azure eyes.

What she says in return is a slap to the cheek. Lyon takes in Lucy's words, his face turning bright red, and Julian wished Lyon's boys were here. They'd no doubt start laughing and pointing.

"Why you —" Lyon starts but Julian stops him. Lucy can be sharp-tongued, Julian will give her that. But now is not the time.

"Sorry about that, he can be an ass." Julian apologises, an arm stretched in front of his brother.

"He _is_ an ass!" Lucy says and, in Julian's head, the boys would resume laughing at Lyon's humiliation.

* * *

"Can't sleep?" Lucy asks as Julian sits in the barely lit hall, between the corridor of closed doors and the space of the stairs.

"Can't," Julian replies. He's too afraid what Lyon will do while his eyes are shut.

Lucy's squatting close to him now, so close that he can hear the metal straw tossed around in her drink. And he thinks she knows this but doesn't mind. She's a girl after answers, not his heart, after all.

He smiles at her. It's almost a habit now, to be always smiling when he's near her (though, there are times where she is far and a simple thought of her sends him grinning).

"Why?" She asks, having the mind to whisper.

He keeps smiling. Then he takes a deep breath in.

"Listen, Luce." Julian says. "Would you still want to hang out with me if you knew the shit Lyon tells you about me? The stuff I did when we were both younger?"

Lucy's azure eyes focus on his face. "Are you afraid your brother will embarrass you? I know he's your family and everything, but I don't trust him. I wouldn't believe a word out of his mouth. I think you're a good guy, Julian, I would rather hang out with you any day. "

Julian nods solemnly, staring at the carpet by their feet.

"Come chill in my room," Lucy says. "I have snacks."

"Um," Julian munches on his lips then gets up slowly. "Okay,"

.

.

.

"Can I have one?" Julian asks.

It makes Lucy eye him with suspicion with such a question. She says to him, "You hate peanut butter."

And she's not just saying this because she doesn't want Julian eating her peanut butter _Reese_ cups or because Julians's _deathly allergic_ to nuts or anything. It's because **he** _told_ **her** long ago that he hates _hates_ **hates** peanut.

"Yeah, but can I have one?" Julian asks again, this time with a scoff.

Lucy continues eyeing him. The brunette girl thinks the reason Julian hates peanut butter is because of an old tale he once told her. Of how Lyon _was_ deathly allergic to nuts and how Julian didn't say anything to his twin when Lyon asked if he could eat this one peanut treat. Julian had said he never spoke up about it because he hated Lyon's guts at the time.

" _It was a phase,"_ Julian had whispered to Lucy, remembering the storm before the blood, before realising what just happened.

It wasn't the taste that Julian hated, it was the guilt. Yet, Julian _still_ ate peanut butter from time to time to remind himself that he wasn't a good person, to _hurt_ himself and to tell himself, 'Hey, you're not a good person!' Not like Ume know knows too much about the homeless, not like Jamal who goes to church every Sunday.

Yeah, it was _that deep_ , and Lucy found it ridiculous. He needs to let go of the past. He can't keep living like this.

"If you want to," Lucy says finally after pressing her lips together.

And just like the Julian from all those years ago, he lets regret consume him. Lucy watches a peanut butter _Reese_ cup get swallowed and moved down a throat before Julian chokes from the overwhelming guilt.

.

.

.

"Do you think you'll feel lonely if your twin died?" Lucy asks, she's been reading about twins for the past ten minutes. Like how they could sense each other and read each other's mind. What was it called again? Twin telepathy or something? Yeah.

"Lyon?"

"Hmm, unless you're a triplet." Lucy hums. She refuses to call Lyon by his name. She feels like saying his name would summon him, like _Bloody Mary_ (or maybe the devil himself?).

"I ... I don't know. He's always been the other half of me." Julian answers, more words ready at the tip of his tongue.

Lucy looks up from her phone, straight into his dark eyes.

"But … sometimes …" Julian mutters, a foot into delirium, he's tired. "Sometimes, I wish I was alone. He's put me through so much bullshit."

* * *

Julian didn't even know smoke could turn yellow. He stands a distance away, but he feels farther away as he watches things unfold.

Maarja seems to be one of the lucky ones who's managed to escape out of the fiery building. The pink-haired girl is covered in smoke and crying on the lawn, begging for Jamal to save Lucy. "The front door's busted! I tried opening it, I swear!"

Jamal looks just about ready to dive into hell's fires when a crash sounds. A window breaks and Lucy tumbles out of the window, coughing and scratched but alive.

"Lucy!" Maarja yells first and Lucy looks about fifteen shades of confused but perks up anyway and runs towards her friends.

"Oh my God, Luce!" Jamal shouts once Lucy is in his and Maarja's arms and the trio just - kind - of - melt into a puddle. A puddle of grateful tears.

"You're safe! You're alive!" Maarja sobs.

And Lucy echoes it, "I'm alive!"

But Julian doesn't let them have their moment. At a time like this, every second is crucial. He shouts, "Lyon?! Where's Lyon?!"

Lucy looks up, her blue eyes still wet. "I — I don't know. I didn't see him."

 _Lyon._ Oh God _, Lyon! I have to save Lyon!_ Julian's thoughts drums in his head. He's frozen by fear for a moment.

Then he drops his backpack to the ground, ready to risk everything. But before he can move, hands grab him back and throw him onto the pavement. God, that's going to bruise!

When Julian lifts his head, he sees Lyon standing over him. Lucy and Maarja are standing in the background, ready to help Julian. Jamal's vanished, he likely ran into the burning building while Julian was panicking and distracted.

"What the hell are you doing, Lyon?!" Julian snarls.

"You were about to run into that building. It's on fire, you could die." Lyon reasons.

"I'll gladly die —"

"Don't say that!"

They glare at each other before Lyon speaks:

"I started the fire."

"What?" The disbelief in Julian's voice is scary even to him. He didn't know he could feel so strongly about this.

"Yeah, and you were about to run into it and get yourself killed. What do you expect me to do? Sit back and let you burn with it?"

"Why'd you — Why'd you do it? Tell me it was an accident, tell me —!"

"It wasn't. You've been gone from home for too long, Julian. You like these people better than you've liked me in years. I can't let them be your anchors."

Jamal's name echoes in his brain, like a song stuck on repeat. Jamal can't die for Julian's reckless actions. He can't believe he let a psychopath into their house!

_Jamal, Jamal, Jamal!_

But Julian knows Lyon won't let him leave as it is. Julian screams, now sitting up. He doesn't even stand fully, instead choosing to rock on his heels and tackle his twin, grabbing Lyon by his legs.

"You decided you didn't like my friends so you thought burning my home down was your best bet to pull me back to you?! You planned to kill them, was that it?!" Julian asks, furious doesn't even cover it. "Lyon, are you bat shit crazy?!"

But Lyon doesn't answer, taking the fall with a loud grunt.

"Did you honestly burn down a building because I stopped hanging out with you?" Julian asks as he holds down a struggling Lyon, watching smoke engulf the house from the corner of his eye. "Lyon, you're crazy!"

"You … You pushed me." Lyon says, hand curled around his sore cheek.

"I did." Julian answers.

"You hurt me!"

"I'm not afraid to hold back anymore!"

Then it's a whirlwind of fists.

And in a blinding red rage, Lyon's knocked on the ground, his nose crooked and his hair full of Julian's hair, ripped off from the scalp. It's enough of an opening for Julian to look up. Jamal's there. Jamal's safe. Where did he go for that split second he wasn't there? Where? To the neighbours? Why —?

" _Julian?_ " Lyon says, his voice so soft it sounds like he's little again. Just a boy. An innocent child. "Help? Help me, please. I'm sorry."

His whole body shakes, tears threatening to spill. Lyon's lost plenty of fights, but he's never held out his hand like this, in surrender.

Despite everything, despite the feud and violence and the disagreements, Julian still grabs Lyon's hand, attempting to lift his brother up from the ground. But Lyon can't rise, too tired, battered and bruised. So instead, Lyon pulls Julian down with him, bloody hands and all, embracing his twin.

* * *

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: I don't know what this is. But it's based on the one time I witnessed a fire with my friends and we called the firemen but it took them twenty fucking minutes to come. We watched people walk near the mall while waiting. But the main point is, someone could have been barbecued to death! Honestly, what took them so long?!
> 
> — 23 September 2020


End file.
